


A Delivery

by infiniteworld8



Series: The Storeroom [1]
Category: The Book Thief - Markus Zusak
Genre: Anger, Canon Jewish Character, Gen, Germany, Guilt, Hiding, Holocaust, Nazis, Starvation, Truth, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteworld8/pseuds/infiniteworld8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s only been months but the hiding is slowly chipping away at Max. Walter hasn’t came in days and when he finally does arrive what he brings is a lot more than Max wanted. After all, sometimes a lie is better than the truth when it let's you keep pretending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Delivery

It had been almost  a week since Walter had came. Max didn’t know that exact time frame instead he judged time by how many times he got thirsty or went to the bathroom. Otherwise there wasn’t any meaningful measurement in the dark storeroom. Night was indistinguishable from day. Minutes…seconds…hours..each felt almost the same when they were spent alone.

He was slowly but surely starving. And not only for food. The loneliness of hiding as taking its toll. His skin was pale and stretched tight against slowly wasting muscle. His resolve was crumbling slowly. It wasn’t Walter’s fault, he brought as much food as he could spare, but he couldn’t been seen coming to the almost factory to often or someone would wonder. And when he did come he couldn’t stay long. And he couldn’t give what Max was hungry for the most…the imperfect feeling of being alive.

So each time Max was left with a few days worth of almost spoiled food and a few minutes of a whispered conversation to sustain him until next time. It was enough , Max tried to convince himself. After all it was worth it, but at least each time Walter came he usually brought word of Max family and to still hear that they were alive made it all worth it.

The six day stretch was the longest Max had ever been without Walter coming. He had eaten the last food he had left two days ago. He was down to his last bottle of water. On and off he had been considering venturing out  to find some food or maybe see what had happened. His mind casted its own doubts. Maybe Walter had decided he was too much trouble and left? Or maybe Walter had been caught ? And finally the worst thought of all…Maybe Walter had been caught and the Nazi knew where Max was and were waiting until he came crawling out his hole like a vermin afraid to see light?

Max shifted uncomfortably on his suitcase, his hands were resting on his knees, his eyes stared sightlessly out towards where he knew the door was. He imagined any moment it would open, bringing with it a trickle of a light, and food and another person.

It was the food that interested Max the most now…he wouldn’t have admitted it…but his dreams had changed from meeting with his family to roasts, fresh bread, musky cheese, sweet fruits. It was nothing more than a starving body and mind attempting to feed itself the only way it could.

Max was so hungry at times that he imagined bargaining with somebody anybody…for just a little food.

*****A SICK IRONY*****

**Max should have been glad for the hunger**

**In fact later, he would wish for the rotting pain tearing through his guts**

**And the dry mouth and food laced dreams**

**It was much better than the visceral pain that Max would feel with Walter’s arrival and the offerings he would bring with his consuming.**

Max had settled on his side, his eyes half closed as he tried to sleep. His arms were wrapped around himself to try to hold in a little warmth and soothed his starved body.

The door creaked. And Max instantly awakened, silently he sat up and unconsciously pressed himself against the wall. The door creaked a little more and Max held his breath. Hesitantly he called out “Walter?”

There was no answer at first, but the door opened wider silhouetting the other man. In his hand a thick bag was held and even from where he sat Max could smell the faint odour of food.

Max didn’t even notice the stiff way the other man walked, or the quietness , his gaze was transfixed on the bag. His palms were sweaty with the thought of opening it, and his stomach was growling as it awakened in anticipation.

Walter crossed to where Max was and held out the bag before settling beside him. “I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier…Anyway I brought you something a little better than usual. I…” Walter trailed off unsure how to finish. He cleared his throat and tried to speak again. “Max, I…” The words petered out as he couldn’t figure out how to finish what he had to say., but Max was more interested in unlacing the knot in the sack. Conversation could wait…at that moment nothing was more important than food

The canvas spilled open to reveal a near fresh backed loaf of bed, three apples, a sausage and thick piece of soft creamy cheese.  With practiced movements, Max  tore off a chunk of the bread and shoved it in his mouth. The piece was swallowed quickly and another piece was soon chasing the first.

Max faltered as he devoured a quarter of the loaf, his stomach appeared to be considering a rebellion at the new occupants it had.  Max swallowed uncertainly and as the bread stayed down grabbed an apple and bit into it.  He felt like he hadn’t eaten in years and not just days. Juice from the apple was running down his chin, and the sweet crunchiness was sliding down his throat.

This…just this was ecstasy , he thought.  Walter watched as Max devoured the apple and even and the core. Then he more leisurely started in on part of the sausage. Finally as Walter summoned enough courage t speak Max turned to him and whispered. “Thank you…”

Walter felt the pitiful gratitude settle like a heavy weight in his stomach as he considered what he would have to tell the other man.  He was spared again as Max asked the question. It was the same question he asked Walter each and every time. After delivering his pitiful thanks for the food he had been brought, he would say “How is my family?” This time it was delivered with a hint of guilt more so than usual. Max was regretting his earlier interest in eating and temporarily forgetting everything else.

This time Walter didn’t answer immediately. Max sensed the hesitation and set the sausage he was eating aside. He swallowed the mouthful he still had and asked again, this time more urgently and more quietly, “My family…how are they?”

Walter couldn’t bear to watch as he spoke, but he couldn’t turn away. Max’s gaze was locked wih his. The younger man’s eyes were searching his …and Walter knew his own gave it away even before he spoke.

He wanted to make it easy…he said it as simply as he could wanting to get the initial shock over. The way he phrased it could have meant a variety of things but they both knew it only meant one.  “I-I went to the apartment and they weren’t there.”

It was a simple sentence, to  anybody else it would have had a variety of possible meanings. But to Max it had only one…his family as gone….dead

Walter saw the color drain from max’s face and hastened to add. “ Maybe, they emigrated or just left and didn’t tell me or..” He fell silent as he realized how absurd his attempts at consolation were. They both knew that Max’s family would not have left voluntarily without even telling where they were going or perhaps taking max too.

Max’s hands were trembling. He clasped them tightly together to still there movement. “What did the neighbours say?”

Walter tried to lie. “ I didn’t ask them, I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.”

“Liar!” Max half-shouted the word like a betrayal.

Walter still refused to say it outright. He knew Max, it was a knowledge born of fist and blood when they were younger and grudging respect and friendship as they and grown older. Walter knew Max  would be destroyed more by what he told him and he couldn’t bear to be  the bringer of that destruction.

“It’s the truth. You should stop being so selfish Max!” Walter made his words as firm as he could be even then his voice was wavering. “Isn’t enough that I hide you . Why do I have to monitor your God damn family to?”

He wanted to make Max mad. He wanted the other man to feel so much rage that at least it would maybe burn away the pain he was feeling as he guessed the truth.

Max gave a low-inarticulate grunt of rage. He grabbed Walter by the shoulders wrestling him down. Walter let him, even though he could have easily flipped him off. He collected the blows that rained down  like presents.  He even fought back , anything was better to stave off the inevitable confession.

Was that absurd that he would rather take the punishment and pain rather than tell a simple fact?

*****AN ANSWER*****

**I think it isn’t.**

**There’s nothing worse than taking hope away from someone.**

**It destroys…it kills…**

**most times a lot better than a bullet or noose ever could.**

They were both panting, Max fists finally fell as even that wasn’t enough to stop the wash of pain sweeping through him. He sat back and finally moved off Walter. They both sat on the cold floor of the storeroom, facing each other and dabbing at their injuries. Blood trickled from a broken nose down Walter’s shirt, and drenched his fingers as he held it tightly. Max licked the coppery taste from his own split lip.

The cold truth lay between them. One desperately didn’t want to pick it up and hand it over. The other needed to have it and know.

Max pleaded. He begged, with his eyes, with his voice, with everything he possessed for just one answer.

“Please tell me what happened? Please…”

Walter didn’t speak at first. Max moved until he was sitting closer. They sat side by side, shoulders nearly touching. Each trembling for their own reasons.

Walter’s voice was low as he confessed. “The neighbors saw what happened…it was about a day after I last you. The Gestapo came, they said they were clearing Stuggart…” Walter broke off, Max was deathly still next to him.

“They rounded them up, I think your cousin Sarah was out shopping…she could have got away…but she didn’t want to stay behind without the others.”

Max stiffened even more …as the truth hit him, like a slap in the face…He was the one left behind without anybody.

Walter was still speaking. “I tried to find out what happened...one of my friend’s brother helps with the deportations…they loaded your family on a train to one of the camps…but I don’t know to which one.”

There was silence except for the sharp intake of breath as Max processed  what the other man had said. Walter finally turned to look at him again. Silent tears were dripping down Max’s face. He eyes were haunted and his skin was as pale as a first snow.

“I’m sorry, Max.” The words were so inadequate the drifted away unheard.

Max’s breathes were coming faster , his shoulders started to shake. Walter watched him unsure what to do. He felt guilty…so guilty…they both did.

Walter reached out to touch Max’s shoulder and the other man twisted away from him. Walter assumed the movement was in response to him, until Max retched bringing up the food which had cost an entire week’s worth of ration cards and some money to buy.

When Max turned back, his face was soaked in tears, he could barely speak past the sobs choking his throat. With a gasping breath he asked. “Why? Why didn’t—you tell me earlier?”

The truth was after Walter had found Max family as gone….he had searched for hours..for days. He didn’t want to believe the truth, he didn’t want to tell Max the truth. He hadn’t visited the other man even to bring him food, because that would have meant he had to lie or tell the truth and it had taken him almost a  week to summon up the courage to even attempt to do so.

“I couldn’t” Max stared at Walter words. Walter swallowed sharply, he tried again. “I’m sorry.”

Max didn’t react, he just continued staring, blankly like he was trying to figure out something. Walter filled the silence. “Max, I should have ….I don’t know…I’m sorry.” He stretched his hand out to Max and touched his shoulder again. Small vibrations traveled up his fingertips and he didn’t have to look at the other man’s face to know what they were from. His could hear the half silent sobs cracking the air.

“Just go.”

Max moved away, pulling himself closer to the wall and refusing to look at Walter. He wrapped his arms around his knees holding himself tightly and feeling the tears soak into his clothes. Walter hesitated, it didn’t feel right to leave, him alone like that. “Max?—“ he broke off, nothing he could think of seemed adequate.

He was spared from speaking again, as Max raised his head. His face was splotchy with tears and his voice was broken and raw. “Walter, leave me alone.”

Walter stood but didn’t move towards the door. Max flung words at him, they were full of anger and heavy with the weight of grief. “Just go! Leave me alone!”

“Leave!” He was gripping his hair in his hands, when Walter didn’t move he grabbed the still half full bag of food on the floor and threw it at the other man, hitting him square in the chest.  “Go!” Walter caught the bag with his fingertips, right before it hit the floor.

“Please!” Max’s entire body was trembling his hands were in tight fists, like he was fighting against something.

Walter backed out the room, and closed the door. The door shut with a slam, but it wasn’t loud or fast enough to drown out the almost animal scream of pain that came from the storeroom.

 

Walter didn’t leave. Instead he slid down in front of the storeroom door and stared out at the deserted factory. He sat and waited. Moisture slowly wet his own cheeks as he listened to the pain he had just shut away.

 

*****KNOW THIS*****

**No matter how hard you try**

**It’s impossible to hold it all together**

**You are after all…**

**Only Human**


End file.
